


Choice

by Leni



Category: Black Jewels - Anne Bishop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:44:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5071378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Arms or legs, Karla."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Emmalie Crystal at[Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/237859.html?thread=48756003#t48756003). Prompt: **though he/she couldn't walk, he/she still had his/her hands.**

Every time her legs hurt so much that the pain brought her to tears, or she caught sight of the walking stick and remembered it would be her companion for the rest of her life, Karla remembered that it had been her choice.

"Arms or legs, Karla," Witch had whispered to her, her Queen demanding an answer even as the healer readied herself to battle the poison in Karla's veins.

There had been a thread of sorrow, as well, from the girl who'd been a friend for almost two decades. Jaenelle had mourned not only Karla's injuries, but for the whole of the Realm as well. Life in Kaeleer would never be the same, after this. There would be war, and even the bonds of loyalty and friendship within the Dark Court would be tautened to their breaking point.

But Karla would bear the most visible scars.

Arms or legs. 

How could anyone choose one over the other?

Karla remembers trembling at the thought of never walking again. She, who had run free in Glacia even when common sense - and Morton, _oh Morton!_ \- had told her to pretend meekness and obedience to uncle Hobart's dictates. She would be bound by her own body, and it would be a prison of her own making.

But then she'd thought of life without the use of her hands... No more painting when the whim struck her, no more tending her personal garden. No more penning letters to her dearest friends, and touching the ink in their responses for an inkling of their psychic scent. There would be no touching the earth during springtime, and catching the first snowflakes as they fell over her city. Even if Craft could do most of the work for her, it would be useless during her moontime.

Legs were freedom. But why be free when she wouldn't be able to care for herself?

_My hands,_ she'd sent back on a distaff thread. _Please._.

And Jaenelle had kissed her brow, magic already picking at the poison and redirecting it lower, until Karla's legs burned with sensation before all feeling deadened in them. 

Her choice, Karla reminded herself firmly.

And every time she considered the alternative, she was glad of it.

 

The End  
25/10/15


End file.
